


The Joys of Parenting

by TheTeaIsAddictive



Series: The Beauty of a Beast [21]
Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991)
Genre: Babies, F/M, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, anyway this is nice and fluffy so enjoy, historically inaccurate parenting methods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 17:27:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11949093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTeaIsAddictive/pseuds/TheTeaIsAddictive
Summary: All the book learning in the world couldn't prepare Belle and Adam for what life with their newborn daughter would be like.





	The Joys of Parenting

**The Joys of Parenting**

He really should have expected this, Cogsworth thought one morning, a few weeks before Belle was expected to deliver the baby. 

Belle and the Master had always been ones to defy convention -- it had been downright necessary, in the first place, to break the spell. Her intelligence and (for lack of a more dignified term) gumption had been highly irregular for a girl of her social standing. Yet those were the traits which had most drawn the Master to her. Their wedding had been a peculiar mix of peasant and royal traditions as well, although they had lent a certain rustic charm to the day which even Cogsworth was not immune to. 

But _this_ was simply too much. 

“It is _entirely_ impractical for the baby to sleep in the same room as you and the Master,” Cogsworth attempted to explain for what had to be the hundredth time. “We have a whole castle _full_ of staff to take care of the child, when it comes. Use that to your advantage, Belle, _please_.”

“And when the child wakes up in the middle of the night, crying for food?” Belle asked, raising an eyebrow. She had been far more level-headed than Cogsworth, thus far; while it was a little annoying, he had to admit it was more pleasant than the screaming matches he and Adam used to engage in. “We won’t need a wet-nurse, and there’s nobody in the castle who could fill that role, anyway. I know you only want what’s best, but Adam and I _are_ this child’s parents. We can handle it.” 

Although her expression and words were pleasant, her tone was final. Whatever else Cogsworth thought, he knew when he had lost an argument. 

“Very well,” he said. “But this is _most_ irregular.”

“So is elevating a commoner or two to royal status, and providing still others with a job in the castle, and yet nobody here bats an eyelid when we do _that_ ,” Belle said, although her eyes were twinkling with mischief. 

“And Adam is on board with this?” he asked before he left the room, just to be sure.

“Of course!” Belle exclaimed. “Believe me, I would never try and undermine him _or_ convince him that I always knew what was best. I _certainly_ learned my lesson.”

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and Cogsworth knew she was remembering the time she had tried to impose Christmas on the castle against the Beast’s wishes. It had been a miserable few days before she had apologised for her stubbornness and insensitivity, although the simple traditions which the servants and even the Beast had taken part in on Christmas Day had left the whole affair as a pleasant memory in Cogsworth’s mind. 

“Of course,” Cogsworth said. “But you’ll still use the nursery throughout the day?”

“Oh, certainly,” Belle said. “It’s such a lovely room, I’d hate to see it go to waste.”

Even though Cogsworth had little interest in the decoration of the castle, beyond it being literally spotless and no longer adorned with statues of monsters everywhere, he too found the nursery to be rather charming. It was south-facing over the gardens, so that it would receive plenty of light and heat in the summer months. It had been papered with a rather whimsical bird pattern, and while the cradle and other furniture was not as ostentatious as those owned by Charmant and Eléonore, they still had expert care carved into every inch. There were plenty of toys and even some storybooks which both parents planned to read to the child in later years, and a small wardrobe containing clothes that had been made both by expert seamstresses and by Belle’s clumsy fingers. 

“As you wish, Belle,” Cogsworth said as he bowed out the room. _I only hope they don’t regret sharing the room with the baby when it comes,_ he thought to himself. 

\---

After spiralling close to chaos for quite some time, things eventually came to a head when Clarisse was a fortnight old. 

Belle and Adam were both prepared for several weeks of disturbed sleep, napping anytime they could, and getting up in the night to tend to the baby. Of course, being prepared for it was not the same thing as experiencing it, and both parents were soon over-exhausted. The natural consequence, of course, was that Adam’s temper was worse than it had been for months, and Belle’s sarcasm went from dry to cutting almost instantly. Both of them had the sense not to take things too far with their frustration, but the atmosphere at bedtime and during the night was far from pleasant. 

Things were easier during the day; Belle would yield Clarisse over to Mrs. Potts and the other nursery maid when sleep overcame her and she had no other choice. Although Adam had lowered his workload for a few weeks in anticipation of caregiving, he only saw his daughter in the company of his wife or the servants during the day, and he had never been left alone with her yet, much to his dismay. The fervour of his love for the little baby took almost everybody by surprise, except for Belle; while many men of his age and station steered clear of their wives until the baby was no longer solely dependent on them (something his own father had done after the births of both Charmant and Adam), he instead spent most of his time with Clarisse cradled in his arms, although she was whisked away the moment she made the slightest noise of distress. 

Things might have continued in this way for weeks, if it hadn’t been for a fierce headache Belle developed two weeks after Clarisse was born. 

The grey light of pre-dawn lit the room as Clarisse’s wails roused Adam almost instantly from sleep. He padded over to the crib alone -- the first sign that Belle was under the weather, as normally both parents rushed to her bedside no matter what time it was -- and dutifully lifted up his child. 

“Is she hungry?” Belle mumbled from the bed. 

“Nappy change,” Adam replied after a quick check. “Don’t get up, I’ll do it.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled. As he stripped Clarisse of her underthings and efficiently changed her, he could hear Belle shifting around on the bed. “I feel awful,” she groaned, in a fashion quite unlike her normal self. “My head is . . . just _pounding_.”

“You need to sleep more,” Adam said sternly, before smoothing down Clarisse’s sleepwear. “There you go, little one,” he crooned gently to the baby. “All done. Back to bed with you.” He watched her carefully in the dim light, until he was sure that her eyes were definitely shut, before slipping back into bed himself. The sheets had already cooled from his absence, and he shivered a little, before dropping back into sleep almost instantly.

When he woke up again, the sun had risen and Clarisse, while not crying yet, was making definite noises of distress. He nudged at Belle’s shoulder to wake her up as well, and while she aimed a half-hearted kick in his direction Adam went to pick up Clarisse. 

“She’s definitely hungry this time,” Adam said. Belle moved the pillows around to form a support for her sitting up, and they passed their daughter from one set of arms to the other with the ease that only practice brought. Belle’s face was unusually pale as she settled Clarisse to feed, her dark eyes lacking their usual spark of energy. 

“Belle . . .” he said quietly. “I think you should stay in bed a little more, today. You don’t look right.”

“Who’ll take care of Clarisse?” she asked. It was her passive acceptance of Adam’s request that had him truly worried; normally she would have insisted that she was fine. 

“I will,” he said firmly, planting a hand on Belle’s shoulder. He rubbed his fingers in little circles, and she hummed happily. “I _am_ her father, after all. It’s not like I’m completely inept. Besides, I’ll have Mrs. Potts to help me. You sleep as much as you can today. I’ll ask for a tray to be sent up for you.”

“Thank you,” Belle murmured. “I just feel _horrible_. Go ahead and get dressed, darling; she’ll be finished by the time you’re done.” 

Adam kissed Belle’s hairline, and ran a gentle hand over the back of Clarisse’s head, before doing as she said and dressing. As she had predicted, Clarisse was full by the time he was dressed, and Adam took the baby away, laying an old rag over his shoulder. 

“She needs burped --” Belle started. 

“I know,” Adam said. “I’m on it. Sleep. Goodness knows you need it.” A torn expression covered Belle’s face for a moment, but she sank back onto the bed with a resigned air when her eyes sank shut without her permission. Within a matter of moments she had pulled a whole heap of blankets over her, and was breathing with the gentle ease and fullness of unconsciousness.

“I’ll come back when she gets hungry,” he said softly. Still gently patting the baby’s back, Adam walked out the bedroom, bringing the door shut with a soft click. “Looks like today’s a day you’ll spend with Papa, isn’t it?” he said cheerfully to Clarisse as he walked her down the corridor towards the dining room. Clarisse let out a burp in reply, and with a chuckle from Adam he settled her carefully in the crook of his arm, being sure to support her neck. 

The morning passed rather uneventfully; Adam had stopped at the nursery first, both to tell Mrs. Potts about the situation and to dress Clarisse for the day. He spent those first few hours mostly alone with her, after reassuring Mrs. Potts countless times that _yes_ , he was perfectly competent with his child, and _yes_ , he would call for her if he needed assistance.

“How are we doing today, then?” he asked the baby after Mrs. Potts had left for one of the adjoining rooms. The baby, with her large blue-black eyes and face still red with newborn flush, stared up at him with a tiny frown on her forehead, as much as if she was asking who on earth he was. Adam laughed, and they spent a very amusing hour or two playing around with various funny faces and the concept of object permanence. 

He changed her again while in the nursery, and brought her back up to Belle at roughly the mid-morning mark for another feed. Belle -- who was still half-asleep -- duly fed Clarisse, kissed her head, and was out like a light again almost before she could lace the front of her nightgown back up. Once they were back in the nursery, Clarisse also began falling asleep.

“Now, Adam, you should go and get some sleep, too,” Mrs. Potts said firmly. 

“But --” Adam said. 

“Sleep!” she repeated. “I can’t say I’m sorry that you two are spending so much time with her at this age, but I _will_ be sorry if I have _two_ new parents who won’t accept help when it’s offered! Clarisse will be perfectly happy with me for a few hours while you catch up on your rest -- and take it from me, dear; when the baby sleeps, _both_ of you should try and sleep.”

Grumbling good-naturedly, Adam curled up in one of the chairs near the nursery cradle. Even though he hadn’t felt especially tired, he woke up a few hours later to find that somebody had brought up a lunch tray, and that he had a mild crick in his neck. _I suppose it’s true that Belle isn’t the **only** one who’s been losing sleep during the night,_ he was forced to concede as he gratefully ate the food. 

“Good afternoon,” Belle said as she entered the nursery. Her upper body had a long cloth wound and tied around it; Adam knew from experience over the last fortnight that Clarisse was nestled next to Belle’s chest inside that cloth, her tiny form hidden from view unless he was practically next to Belle. It was a simple, hands-free way for Belle to walk around with Clarisse; only yesterday the three of them had been in the gardens using the exact same arrangement. He could hear his daughter hiccupping from inside the cloth, and he stifled a laugh, instead walking over to kiss and embrace his wife. 

“You’re looking better,” he said. “Good sleep?”

“Yes,” Belle smiled. “Definitely needed it. She’s been fed and changed again, by the way.” She dropped her eyes to the top of Clarisse’s head, before slowly beginning her next sentence. “We need to talk. We can’t keep going on like this, not if it means we regularly have days where one or both of us is useless from sleep deprivation.”

“I agree,” Adam said. “I love having Clarisse in the room with us -- right now, I think she honestly needs it -- but we need to re-think how we deal with her during the night. If we maybe take it in turns to see what she wants, and only wake up the other if needed, that might work better.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Belle said. “Shall we try it tonight?”

“Good plan,” Adam smiled. He deliberated whether or not he should add onto his statement; the last thing he wanted was to upset Belle after they’d both had a rough night.

“You’re doing that thing when you get nervous, where you bite your lip,” Belle said warily. “Is there something else you want to tell me?”

“I . . . Belle, I understand that you’re Clarisse’s mother, and you carried her for nine months and delivered her in the most terrifying day and a half of my life.” He took a deep breath. “But -- well, I’m her parent, too. I feel like between you and Mrs. Potts, there’s not much for me to do with her. I’m not saying that I think anything you’re doing is bad -- I’d just . . . like to spend more time with her.” He braced himself for the hurt he was sure was coming. 

“Oh, Adam, I’m so sorry!” Belle gasped. “I never realised you felt that way, but I should have guessed.” She laid a hand on his arm, squeezing it gently. “I’m so used to the men in my village taking little interest in their babies until they grow older, I never even _thought_ \-- but I should have known better. I can see how much you adore her.”

Adam flushed. “She’s just so little,” he said in way of explanation, offering up a laugh at the same time. “I don’t want to miss out. You don’t have to say yes, but would you consider teaching me how to use those wraps to carry her? That way I can have her while you nap, the two of use can spend some time together, and I’ll still have my hands free to do some work.”

“Of course,” Belle smiled. A moment later, she started laughing, and Adam frowned quizzically. “I just thought of Cogsworth’s face when he sees you carrying Clarisse around the castle like a farmer’s wife,” she explained between bursts of laughter, and the image was too funny for Adam not to join in. 

For the rest of the day, Adam learned how to wind and tie the cloths so that Clarisse was securely fastened to his front, and spent more time rocking her and interacting than ever before, interspersed with more feedings and changings. The two of them gave Clarisse a first bath, during which she wailed and screeched like a banshee, and afterwards was soothed by Belle’s gentle mutterings. With a new plan of action for dealing with her needs at night, Belle and Adam returned to bed after swaddling the baby carefully, and gently kissing her goodnight. 

When Clarisse woke up around midnight, squalling urgently, both parents woke up immediately. 

“Time to put our plan into action,” Adam mumbled. 

Belle groaned, pulling the quilt covers over her head. “Well, I guess that means it’s your turn,” she said, the volume muffled. 

Adam swung his legs over the side, and stumbled over to Clarisse’s crib. “Nappy change,” he murmured after a moment. There was no response; Belle had already fallen asleep again. He soon settled his baby, and rejoined his wife, burying his cold feet between her warm shins as he tried to get back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested my user michael.moore398 on ff.net, back in February, who must have had the patience of a saint to wait this long. Hope it was worth the wait!
> 
> Notesss: Co-sleeping is a decision every individual set of parents has to make for themselves. This decision gets significantly easier after baby monitors are invented. Adam’s interest in his child was probably not typical of a noble of this era, although there were probably exceptions to this, as there is with everything. I know very little about babywearing, except that it was definitely a Thing in the past, and the image of Adam carrying Clarisse around on his front was too cute to pass up. 
> 
> No, I still haven’t written their wedding yet. I’ll do it someday!
> 
> TheTeaIsAddictive


End file.
